by Mary Brent Cantarutti
The sun slips into the Lowcountry sky—
a pancake stirred in earth’s kitchen,
served up in orange flames,
a divine concoction offered to day.
Which way to turn?
West, I decide.
My shadow, a wispy being set free in the angled light,
stretches tall and flat, pressed into life.
Heel toe, heel toe: I step with purpose.
Promise slithers up my spine,
life’s frame spreads out in waves.
What flows will be.
I pick up a reed.
Drawing in the sand, a heart shape emerges
one stroke at a time.
I draw a line through the center,
one side for light,
one side for dark,
pray for balance in all.
Breathe, the ocean whispers,
— Mary Brent Cantarutti
Born, bred and reared to be a fan-carrying lady, Mary Brent Cantarutti headed west in pursuit of romance and adventure. She never lost her drawl. Co-founder of the Southern Sampler Artists Colony and writer of Southern Women’s Fiction, her inner compass points toward cooling Atlantic breezes.